


Five Times She Turned Her Back on Him

by Kazahana_Yukina



Category: Naruto
Genre: Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Drama & Romance, F/M, Slice of Life, Timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 23:32:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14758371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazahana_Yukina/pseuds/Kazahana_Yukina
Summary: Call it cowardice or bravery. But in the end, she did. And he didn't mind one bit.





	Five Times She Turned Her Back on Him

**FIVE TIMES SHE TURNED HER BACK ON HIM**

_Not today you idiot._

…

…

**8 years old…**

Children's eyes are the purest of them all. They see everything: the light over the dark, the truth over the lie, and the joy over the sadness. It is perhaps a precious gift from heaven only bestowed to such young hearts – young hearts that are untainted by the ways of the old world.

…

It was with these eyes that she first saw him. They were inside the classroom, the teacher announcing the commencement of the first day of classes. The whole class, as practically strangers to each other, was instructed to go about and try to make friends. Additional incentives were in the form of sweets, to be given to those who could remember ten names in total.

He was sitting by the window, ears tuning out the voices that roared and the sound of the chairs that screeched. She noticed how no one bothered to start up a conversation with him – maybe because they were intimidated by his silence. But she was a brave one – yes, she was - so it was with this bravery that she took a step forward and smiled at him, not minding how his eyebrows were furrowed in irritation.

Her apology came first before her name, then last her request for friendship. Eyes glowing and expectant, she stared deep onto his surprised lavender ones before she beamed when he answered with his own name, albeit in a soft whisper she was lucky her ears heard. At this same time, unfortunately, their homeroom teacher had called for order, asking everyone to return to their seats. She was always the type to speak up her mind, so she made sure that before she turned back, she uttered out a statement that would seal his friendship.

_I like your eyes. They're very pretty._

XOOOOX

**15 years old…**

Cinderella had always been her favorite fairy tale, but not for the same reason everyone else has. The fictional girl was simple, hard-working and gentle in heart and never asked for anything in return aside from a simple wish to attend a ball. Somehow, she liked to think of herself as the same.

She closed her eyes, giving in to sleep. Somehow, her mind centered on the line she loved the most:

_One of her glass slippers came off but Cinderella did not turn back for it. She reached home just as the clock struck twelve._

…

Her feet hurt, her head spun, but it was nothing compared to the sense of giddiness bubbling inside. As they walked to her house, he asked if she was all right, which she answered with a wide smile all the while clinging to him to help lessen the pain. Technically, it wasn't in her schedule to attend their school's promenade. She was never the party type anyway. But a simple (and shy) request from him made her his muse so as to – using his excuse – get his way out the dare his cousin's suitor had made him enter.

That night, she had learned three things about him she never knew existed: One - he was a pretty decent dancer and led her with patience and grace. Two – he was sweet for offering to walk her home and allowing his white suit to be crumpled courtesy of her.

The third?

She stood at the doorway bidding him a thank you and goodbye. The usual gestures should be: thank you; goodbye; he walks away; she closes the door. But apparently, he wasn't a man for rules. When he lingered a bit more, he looked as if he was struggling to say something. She swore it was a strange night because she caught on the edge of his thoughts and suddenly, suddenly she was very afraid that he might say it. So in an unprecedented act, she excused herself, saying she needed rest being her feet hurt like hell, and he said okay: he'll see her tomorrow at school.

And so it turned to this: thank you, goodbye, she closes the door, he walks away.

Somehow or the other, she was sure that she found out the third thing the moment their eyes met before the door closed. And she wondered whether she left her prince earlier than Cinderella left her own.

But then, if she hadn't, she wouldn't realize that her midnight had started there.

XOOOOX

**20 years old…**

Biology had never been her favorite subject, even back in high school. There was just something about the terminologies that would make her head spin and her teeth grit that sometimes, all she wanted was to feign sickness so as to avoid another hell hour. To tell the truth, the only thing nailing her to the subject was his continuous pestering of failing grades if she sticks to her attitude.

Being his classmate helped a lot, but screw this thing! So what if the blood pumped all over the body? The professor could die of bleeding, for all she cares.

…

College had never been a walk in the park, but as she raised her glass for a brighter future, she couldn't help but think that all those sacrifices had been worth it. So now, in their graduation party, she joined the others, laughing, and discussing their plans.

He was alone in the patio, which did not surprise her. He wasn't the social type, to begin with. But then, bringing another glass of wine, she opted to join him. He took the glass gratefully, raising it with hers in their own private celebration as she took the initiative for the talk. Then, after that, he set down his glass and looked her in the eye. It was his turn, he said, to tell her of what he planned for his future.

Normally, the scope of "things-to-happen" would include what to do after graduation, where to work, where to live and how to ace independence. She had already known that he was a far cry from normal, but still, it didn't mean that she accurately predicted what he was going to say, more so what he said that night.

He uttered a single question, and it hung heavily in the air: Could we stop being friends?

She stared at him, completely stunned and noticed it when his hands slightly shook and anxiousness danced in his eyes. It was then she realized that it was the right time.

And then she laughed, laughed more than she had in her entire life because really, what other meaning could it have? She told him that for a genius, he was silly for even thinking that the answer was no and she watched as he smiled, relieved of the tension that once hovered and she felt the familiar heat rush up her face as she wiped the tears off. She hoped he did not notice.

He does though, as he pointed it out teasingly, and so she feigned anger and turned away. (When in reality she was just trying to contain the color that painted her cheeks, and the wide grin she had.)

Again, she thought that she did not hate biology.

Hate is an understatement.

She cursed it.

XOOOOX

**23 years old…**

Anger immediately creates a distance. When two people are angry at each other, their hearts are no longer close, their emotions are divided and they go miles apart. To cover that distance, they yell. The angrier they are, the louder they shout. They are no longer in mode of love, of acceptance, of proximity. They are unable to hear each other; shouting is how they believe they can be heard.

…

Distance was the darkest word that could come across two persons. Physically or figuratively, it was never something that people wanted because they knew too well that it brought nothing but discord. But here alas, at three in the morning where all was to be placid, the dreaded word once again created a rift on two hearts that should be nothing but one.

To why they were arguing, nobody knew. However, it was serious enough to send their voices piercing the room. She was on the verge of tears and he was teetering on the edge of self-control. Both knew they made a point; both wanted the other to just damn get it. Another curse word from her tumbled out as he paced around, looking at anywhere but her. Hand on her chest, she realized that containing oneself was a hard thing to do but she had to because in hell she'll be damned if she ever lets him see her cry. Not tonight.

It wasn't funny how anger tended to blind eyes – not to what was right, but to what was important. Nothing could be a bitterer pill to swallow than the truth that anger cannot make room for love because it just about obliterates everything close to it - turns centimeters to miles. So when he raised his hands in frustration and hissed that she was impossible, her broken response was: maybe she was and that giving up could be the better option (as if there was any other option anyway). Perhaps turning the figurative into the literal was their only choice so, without further ado, she grabbed her coat and ran - not walked, but ran away because really, who was she to blame?

Moments later, she would remember how his arms had locked her in an embrace as his apology rasped the air in uncharacteristic desperation – sincerity - that immediately, almost immediately she succumbed and returned his gesture.

Their tears were not in any way related to the anger that threatened to rip them apart.

Because, do see: what happens when two people fall in love? They don't shout at each other but talk softly, they almost whisper, because their hearts are very close. And even in silence, there's little or no distance between them because they understand.

XOOOX

**25 years old…**

Kissing was never on their list of "things-to-do-everyday". While considered normal for couples, she would jokingly explain when asked that they relish the feeling of oxygen in their lungs and, on a more serious note, they opted keeping  _that_ aspect in rarity. There was just something about scarcity that would make things more special and, even without verbal agreement, both of them preferred it that way.

…

Never in a million years had white made its way on her color roster because she was the lively type. She preferred warmer tones over plainer ones so much that she  _almost never_  wore any clothes predominantly the family of white. In line with this unusual aversion was the constant pestering (albeit in an impish way) of  _his_ color preference which then just happens to be what the latter  _almost always_ wore.

But just this once, she would make an exception (nonetheless she was allowed to hiss every now and then)

It was itchy, it was hot, it was heavy, and it was a bother to wear ( _The hell with this veil!_ ) but it didn't make her any gloomier (any more than she already was) because today, just today, she would give up her color (and clothing) preference for the tradition that was expected – a tradition that included a church, a priest, visitors, and him wearing a black suit (She laughed. Was he fussing too much about his attire too?). Imagining what he would look like wearing such a color would bring about butterflies as if she was a lovesick teenager all over again.

The number of butterflies doubled when she  _did_ see what he looked like.

She can't help but think how stupid he was for choosing white over black because certainly the latter suited him better – he looked more regal, reserved and classy. As beside him she stood, all irritation melted, replaced by marvel and awe at how things turned out to be the best for both of them - from the start up to this point (When clearly, she admits, that her cowardice in facing things wasn't something that deserved him). Blinking her eyes, she noticed him raise an eyebrow in a playful way and in return she stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes as if to say he's stupid. Well to her, he was anyway. He chuckled, low but unmistakable.

_Aren't you going to turn back?_

_Not today you idiot. I'm going to face this one._

She swore she could not remember anything else because it was as if time passed by in a blur. The next thing she knew, they were facing each other. Their ring fingers were adorned by silver bands of eternity's symbolism, and his hands were cupping her face. Now devoid of the irritating veil that blurred her view, she was staring – oh god – staring deep onto those lavender eyes that started everything.

He smirked as if a challenge. She raised her eyebrow in response.

Hence a kiss they did share.

Maybe running out of oxygen wasn't such a bad thing after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love to hear your thoughts. ^_^ Good day!


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